


keep talking

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Smut, look i'm sorry okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1383616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake tries to study. Yang has other plans. (Another rewrite from tumblr.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep talking

Being in a relationship with Blake was a series of discoveries. For Yang, who was sure she’d gotten everything figured out by age 15, Blake Belladonna was an eye-opener. She was a pair of sunglasses over Yang’s too-bright world.

For example, after years of being the reader, Yang found out that she loved to be read things. Blake’s careful pronunciation of each word, like she might break one on her tongue, gave her dizzying spells of affection. She could listen all day.

It made studying more of a challenge than it had any right to be.

“Read it to me again,” said Yang, leaning forward with her chin in her hand.

“I don’t think you’re that interested in Dust theory.” Blake closed the textbook with a soft thunk, and the smell of old paper rushed over Yang all at once.

“No, I really am!” Yang leaned closer, wondering if she could touch noses with Blake from across the table. She stared Blake straight in the eye. “I totally love Dust. It’s the bomb. You should read to me again.”

Yang was close enough to feel the tiny huff of air from Blake’s nose. “Whatever you say,” she said, and flipped through the textbook.

She started reading from the top of the page. Yang let her eyes flutter closed. She let her mind wander, Blake’s silk-smooth voice winding lazily through her head. The words lost their meaning.

Blake stopped abruptly. “Are you sure you want to keep studying?”

Yang blinked. She was rubbing circles into Blake’s thigh with the pad of her thumb. Apparently, that’s where her mind had been going.

She grinned. “Of course.”

Blake didn’t question her. Her next hesitation was only marked by the rustle of paper as she turned the page.

Yang let her body move on autopilot, sliding out of her chair and under the table.

Blake began a paragraph about the formation of Dust crystals.

The dorm was quiet, Saturday morning sunlight streaming through the window and warming the air. Yang rested her head on Blake’s knee and watched the dust motes flit around her faunus ears. She’d decided to stop wearing the bow in private, which was a godsend, because her ears were more reactionary than her face would ever be. They twitched when Yang’s hand slid further up her thigh.

Blake’s voice was nothing but steady.

When Yang kissed along Blake’s leg, making trails from the hem of her thigh highs and pushing her plaid skirt up around her hips, her ears flicked once.

“Powdered Dust is more volatile, and it must be contained in treated vials in order to be transported safely,” said Blake. Yang pulled her panties down with her teeth. “The purity of the powder has a direct correlation to its volatility.” Yang spread Blake’s knees apart. “The powder is used in many applications, its most common being—its most common—”

Yang licked a long, slow stripe up Blake’s slit. She had to pause, her breath coming faster, hot against Blake’s inner thigh. Blake had teased her before, about getting off on this more than she did. It was a half truth, her arousal flaring to a slow burn just from the taste, from the noises choked off in the back of Blake’s throat.

“Ah—its—its most common use being the powering of weapons.”

And shit, she was still talking.

Yang’s face burned. Her grip on Blake’s thighs tightened with each word. Blake dragged her fingers through Yang’s hair, gripping just hard enough to cause a flare of pain in her scalp. It was worth it to see the way Blake’s ears twitched and fluttered, to see the way her breathing got shallow and fast. The edges of her words wavered when Yang’s tongue passed over her clit. 

Yang smoothed a calloused palm over Blake’s leg, stroking her skin and bringing her fingers down. She pressed knuckle-deep into the warmth there, crooking her finger, working her tongue rough against Blake’s clit.

Blake cut off her reading mid-sentence. She let out a low moan that rumbled down Yang’s spine. She gripped harder, tangling her trembling fingers in Yang’s hair. There was repressed energy in her forearm, small muscular twitches, like she wanted to shove Yang closer.

Too bad. Yang pulled away. Blake yelped, just a little.

“Keep talking.” Yang licked her lips. She heard the soft rustle of a page.

“Dust—” Blake took a deep breath. “Dust crystals are a more eff—ah—efficient method of storage.”

Her voice jumped and hitched in her throat. “The crystals are less likely—less likely to—Yang—”

“Come on,” Yang muttered, innuendo intended. She added a second finger.

Blake’s voice shook, pitch unsteady. “The crystals are—are less—less likely to react with—” She cut herself off with a groan. “Less likely to react with near—nearby auras—Yang, I swear to god—”

Yang licked deep, not bothering to stop her muffled whine, and Blake was lost, with a broken moan, clenching more knots into Yang’s hair.

It was hard to focus on getting presentable when her knees felt like jelly and her hair was twisted and tangled thirty ways. Yang gave up on fixing the knots and settled for throwing the whole mess behind her shoulders. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve.

“Are we done studying yet?” Yang kissed Blake on her blush-warm cheek.

Blake inhaled, exhaled, took her time with her answer.

“Yes, you ass.”


End file.
